


Bittersweet: A Suga x Reader Oneshot

by Bamboo_Flute



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Fanfiction, Gangs, Gen, High School, Oneshot, Prom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 06:57:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bamboo_Flute/pseuds/Bamboo_Flute
Summary: When Yoongi, the dashing hero who saved you from three gangsters, turned out to be the leader of another gang, you decide to continue being his friend instead of cutting ties with him. After all, Suga and his six friends all seem to be such nice people--except Namjoon, who blamed you for all misfortune that befell the gang. But you didn't know how far Yoongi was willing to go for you, and when the rival gang's dead leader's successor comes for revenge, you found yourself caught in the crossfire...





	Bittersweet: A Suga x Reader Oneshot

Bittersweet

A Suga x Reader Oneshot

 

            You leaned your head against the cool glass of the train’s windowpane, gazing out as the scenery flashes by. Fields filled with orderly rows of wheat gave way to swaying yellow mustard flowers, bending with the wind. In the distance, blue mountains majestically stood at attention, their peaks reaching high into the clear blue sky. As the train chugged on, the window rattled and vibrated with every turn of the wheels. You touched the glass and felt it shivering beneath your fingertips, as if it was alive. A memory surfaced in your mind, and you saw the figures reflected on the glass, clear as day…

*          *          *          *          *

            _(Three years prior)_

There was nowhere to run. You hugged your books tighter to your chest and backed up further against the wall, eyes darting around wildly for an escape route. The three guys leered at you, prowling closer like wolves cornering a deer. They were all dressed in a white shirt and ripped jeans. One had a large tattoo on his left forearm, a symbol of his loyalty to a local gang. Another plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and grinded it into the floor with the heel of his shoe. They couldn’t be more than twenty years old, probably all high school and college drop-outs.

            “Well, well, what do we have here? A pretty girl trapped in an alleyway. We all know how this is going to turn out, right boys?” The guy with the tattoo grinned at you menacingly, cracking his knuckles. His buddies snickered and circled around you, so that you were surrounded on all three sides. The one who was smoking reached out to caress your arm, and you jerked away, slamming a textbook on his hand. He yowled in pain and backed away.

            “Wow, you’re a feisty one. This is going to be a lot of fun.” The third guy, a teenager with a Mohawk and three silver studs in each ear exchanged a look with Tattoo guy and smirked. You gripped your textbooks tighter, preparing to fight. Why did you have to take a shortcut? Would ten more minutes of walking really kill you?

            “Help! Help me!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as the three guys prowled closer. They only laughed at your pathetic voice echoing in the empty alleyway.

            “No one can hear you, pretty girl,” Cigarette said gleefully as he made a grab at you. “You’re all alone here.”

            You dodged the attack, but Mohawk reached for you on the left. You spun and struck out with your textbook, hearing the satisfying crack as the hardcover connected with Mohawk’s head. Mohawk stumbled but regained his balance, and leapt for you with a snarl.

            The textbooks were knocked to the floor by two guys attacking you at once, and suddenly you were defenseless against three muscled guys. Without a second of delay, Tattoo reached out to grab you, his fingers latching on to the flimsy fabric of your shirt. You lurched away from his touch, but Tattoo refused to let go. With a _riiip!_ your favorite blue shirt tore at the left sleeve, leaving a wide gap of skin exposed in front.

            “Ahhh!” You screamed and batted at Tattoo, who was now busy ogling any piece of exposed skin. “Help! Somebody HELP!!”

            Cigarette and Mohawk swept in for the kill, and you clawed at anything that came near. But two guys were much too strong for a nerdy girl, and soon you had both arms pinned to the wall, struggling futilely. Tattoo stalked closer, leering at you, and a knife appeared in his hand.

            “Now, sweetheart, do you want to do this the hard way or the easy way?” He stepped close to you, and you could smell the sweat on him. _Disgusting._

            “Help! Help me! Somebody, please!” You screamed again, but Tattoo silenced you with a slap across the cheek.

            “Silence! If you don’t stop yelling and moving, I’m going to slice your throat, and then we’re going to have our way with you anyway. So if you don’t want to die, shut up and behave.”

            You fell silent, but tears slipped down your cheek, both from pain and from fear. The worst thing that could happen to a girl is going to happen, and there was nothing you could do, no one to save you. As Tattoo roughly tipped your chin up to face him, you squeezed your eyes shut and prayed for a swift death…

            A gunshot rang out, and someone screamed. It might’ve been you. Tattoo whipped you in front of him as a shield and looked around wildly. “Who was that? Who dares to ruin my fun?”

            “Let the girl go.” A guy dressed in black stood at the opening of the alleyway, a handgun aimed at the bullet-shaped hole in the wall behind you.

            “In your dreams,” snarled Tattoo. “She’s mine. Go find yourself another girl.”

            “I’m warning you, my shots never miss.” To emphasize his point, the stranger took another step into the alley and aimed the gun at Tattoo, who used you as a shield.

             “Get him, boys. Then we’ll have our fun.” Without having to be told twice, Mohawk and Cigarette both lunged at the stranger, knives flashing in their hands. The stranger ran towards them, and two more shots rang out in succession. Mohawk and Cigarette fell to the floor, clutching at their limbs.

Before you could react, the stranger was already running towards Tattoo, his gun ready to fire. Tattoo picked you up by your waist and threw you towards the stranger, intending to use you to block the next bullet. You screamed again, squeezing your eyes shut and wondering how much a bullet would hurt. In the next instant, you collided with something in midair and your hands grabbed on to the first solid thing it hooked onto. A strong arm encircled your waist, using your momentum to twist to the side, and a gunshot rang out simultaneously. By the time your feet touched solid ground again, Tattoo was on the floor writhing in pain, blood staining his hands. Mohawk and Cigarette, while still in pain, managed to get up and drag their wounded leader away.

The arm around your waist fell away. “You can let go of my shirt now.” With a start, you realized that you had been clutching the front of your rescuer’s shirt. Embarrassed, you released your fistfuls of fabric and tried to smooth the creases.

“Sorry about that.” You finally looked up into the stranger’s face. Whatever words you had died in your throat.

The boy standing less than a foot away had slick dark brown hair, graceful eyebrows, and plump pink lips, with a sharp jaw line and two silver earrings. He was dressed in all black: a black leather jacket with silver zippers over a black muscle shirt, black skinny jeans, and new black converse shoes. What mesmerized you the most, however, were his eyes—dark, chocolate-colored eyes that stared at you intently, bright and sharp.

“Are you alright?” The boy asked, still staring into your soul. You blinked, hurriedly looking away when you caught yourself staring. His face seemed familiar. Did you see him somewhere before?

 “Y-yes. Yes, I’m okay. Thanks for saving me. If you hadn’t dropped by, who knows what would’ve happened to me.” You stammered out a thank-you, genuinely grateful that this handsome stranger saved you from the claws of monsters.

“Where were you headed?”

“Home. I was walking back from school and decided to take a short cut. Worst mistake ever.” You looked around and bent down to pick up your scattered textbooks from the floor.

“It’s not even dark. I can’t believe they would do something like that in broad daylight.” The boy shook his head. “I’ll walk you home. I don’t want anything else happening to you.”

“Oh. Thank you.” You tried to hide a blush. A cute guy was going to walk you home—how exciting is that?

The two of you emerged from the alleyway and began walking towards your house. You felt the boy’s eyes on you and wondered what was wrong. A leather jacket dropped over your shoulders. You looked up at him, surprised.

“Your shirt is ripped,” the boy informed you, looking straight ahead.

“Oh. Oh, thanks.” While he held your textbooks, you slipped your arms into the jacket, which hung loose on your frame. “I never introduced myself. I’m (Y/N). What’s your name?”

“I…” For some reason, the boy seemed to hesitate. Then he looked at you again, and something in his expression changed. “My name is Min Yoongi.”

*          *          *          *          *

You left Yoongi at the sidewalk of your house, telling him to wait for you to change so he could get his jacket back. But five minutes later, when you came back out, Yoongi was gone.

He wasn’t gone from your memory, however. All you could think about was him: how he appeared in the nick of time, how he bravely charged at the gangsters, and how he pulled you protectively toward him, wrapping his arm around you. You had never believed in love at first sight, but Yoongi was beginning to change that.

The weekend passed, and school began again. You noticed a couple of guys throwing you strange looks in the hallway but paid no attention, because people in your school usually looked down on nerds like you. During lunch, you sat in your usual spot in the corner of the library, a calculus textbook on the table in front of you, a pencil in one hand, and a sandwich in the other. No one ever bothered you here, and you liked the peace and quiet.

“Hey, are you (Y/N)?” An unfamiliar voice sounded. You looked up from the problem you were doing to see three guys, dressed in varying shades of black, surrounding your table. The one who had spoken was the tall, blonde guy in the middle, whose hair was gelled up into spikes. A muscular guy with obvious six-packs stood to his left, and a fidgety boy with dyed red hair and a bandana stood on the right. You had an unpleasant flashback to what happened three days ago, in an alleyway.

“Uh, yes? Do I know you guys?” You set down your sandwich and pencil,  looking at the three boys in front of you. Casually, you picked up your chemistry textbook from the floor beside your chair.

“I was in your English class!” The boy with red hair waved at you. “Do you remember a Kim Taehyung?”

“Oh, Taehyung. Yes, I remember you. And these are your friends?” You recalled the mischievous but curious student in your English class.

“V, this is not time for pleasantries,” the blonde guy snapped. He focused back on you, scrutinizing you from head to toe. Finally, he spoke. “Were you in an alleyway three days ago and trapped by three gangsters?”

 _Uh-oh._ You had to force down the sudden panic. _A person can’t recover that fast from a bullet wound, can they?_ “Yes. A-are you part of their gang?”

“Rap Monster, I think she’s the one,” the muscular guy on the left interrupted. Rap Monster nodded.

“Jimin, where’s Suga?”

“On his way.”

            You pushed your chair back and stood. Picking up your backpack from the floor, you began shoving your folders and homework in.  “I’m glad to make your acquaintance, but I’ve really got to go. See you all around school—”

“Now wait a minute, what are you doing? You can’t leave.” Jimin suddenly had his grip on your arm, stopping you. “You have to wait until Suga arrives.”

“If you think I’m going to wait around for him to come and take revenge for escaping last time, you’re so wrong. I’m _leaving_.” You jabbed your elbow into Jimin’s windpipe and he staggered back, letting go of your arm. V and Rap Monster started forward, alarmed.

“Hey, calm down, we’re not going to hurt you—” V tried to approach you, but you gripped your heavy textbook and swung at him, causing him to raise his hands in surrender and jump back.

“I’m going to scream bloody murder if you all don’t leave me alone!” Your voice rose with every word. Your heartbeat pulsed in your ears. What was wrong with these people? Why can’t they just leave you alone?  
            “(Y/N), please, don’t scream—just calm down, okay?” Rap Monster tried to reason with you. You glared at him and held your textbook like a weapon.

“You can’t stop me! Just because I’m a girl you think you boys can always take advantage of me? I’m armed and dangerous!” Your eyes darted around wildly for an escape.

“(Y/N), please, put the book do—” Jimin attempted to tug the book away from you, but you swung the book and slammed it into his stomach. With an _oof!_ Jimin stumbled back and fell into a bookshelf, knocking over the books that were standing upright on top of the shelf.

“What’s going on?! Was that Jimin?” A figure barreled down the aisles towards the four of you. He skidded to a stop next to Rap Monster, taking in the sight of Jimin groaning on the floor, V with his arms still raised in surrender, and you in your battle stance. “(Y/N)?”

“Yoongi?” You stared at the boy in front of you. “ _You’re_ Suga?”

“Yeah, I’m Suga. That’s my, uh, street name. Didn’t they tell you?” Yoongi looked at you, confused. The book fell from your hands in a thud.

“No! They came up to me and surrounded the table, just like those three guys in the alleyway, and started questioning me! I thought they were in the same gang!” You exclaimed, feeling a rush of relief. “I was so scared!”

“We thought you knew…” V said with a pout.

“Suga, the girl sure can fight,” Jimin said from the floor, still rubbing his sore abs. “How did she not fight off the gangsters?”

“Never mind that. I’m sorry if they scared you, (Y/N). I told them to make sure you didn’t leave before I could get here.” Yoongi apologized.

“Well in that case I guess I can forgive you three for scaring me. What did you want to talk to me about?” You suddenly remembered the jacket hanging in your closet. “Is it about your leather jacket? It’s at home, I’ll bring it tomorrow. I told you to wait for me but you still left.”

“Ah, well, I had some…business to tend to that day.” Yoongi scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “So…um…”

“Yes?” You looked at him expectantly. Yoongi suddenly looked uncomfortable, probably because his three friends were all looking back and forth between you two.

“The gangsters didn’t give you any more trouble after I left, right?” Yoongi asked worriedly.

“No, I didn’t see them again. Thanks for saving me that day. If there’s anything I can do to help you out any time, just tell me.” You smiled shyly at Yoongi.

“Actually, can I get your number? So we can keep in contact and you can call me if those gangsters bother you again.” Yoongi said in a rush. You arched an eyebrow in surprise.

“Oh. Y-yeah, of course. Here, I’ll enter my number into your phone, and you enter yours into mine.” You swapped phones and typed in your phone number.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” Yoongi said as the bell rang. “See you later.”

You smiled to yourself as Yoongi and his three friends walked away, with Taehyung telling Yoongi, “So _that’s_ the girl you shot three gangsters to save. She’s very pretty, hyung.”

*          *          *          *          *

You saw Yoongi and his friends around school sometimes. There would be a nod here, a “what’s up?” there, but never any formal conversation. Your schedule and Yoongi’s didn’t overlap, because while you were at the top of your class and taking advanced courses, he often slacked off and ended up in the basic classes. He was a smart boy, but he never did his homework. The only reason why he was passing his classes was because he did very well on his tests, which surprised all of his teachers.

Slowly, you found out more about Yoongi, even though he seemed to try and avoid any questions about his personal life. He and six other equally handsome boys formed the “bad boys” squad in your school. Spiky gelled hair, black sunglasses, gold chains, and leather jackets coupled with six-packs, bulging biceps, and handsome faces, it was no wonder all the girls fell heads-over-heels for them. The saying that good girls like bad boys seemed to be true: even a studious, responsible nerd like you began to feel something for the mysterious but caring Min Yoongi, whom everyone called Suga.

What concerned you, however, was how sometimes Yoongi disappeared for a few days, even a week, only to return to school with scratches and bruises. He never gave you any sort of explanation, even when you confronted him about it. Once he came back with a broken nose and a black eye, which really didn’t make sense considering he owned a handgun. Surely a gun can beat fists in a fight? But then again, owning a gun when you’re under 18 was illegal. 

Whenever Yoongi disappeared most of his friends would disappear with him, often only leaving the youngest members behind—Taehyung and Jungkook. Both were adorable and very likeable, with curious but sometimes shy personalities. They were a grade younger than you, and as you interacted more with them, you began to see them as your younger brothers. They, in turn, looked up to you as an older sister. You tried to pry information from them about Yoongi’s whereabouts whenever there was an unexplainable absence, but Taehyung and Jungkook always kept their mouths shut and changed the subject.

“(Y/N)-noona, can you come over and help us with our math homework again?” Taehyung called one afternoon. “It’s a new lesson and our teacher doesn’t explain the materials as well as you do.”

“Do you have food for me?” You asked teasingly.

“Yes! Jin-hyung cooked good food last night. I’m sure he won’t mind if you had some,” Taehyung said excitedly. “See you in ten minutes, (Y/N)-noona!”

This wasn’t the first time Taehyung and Jungkook had asked you for homework help.

Although they were classified as the “bad boys”, they still had a desire to learn and do well in school. Maybe that’s why the older members often left them out on their top secret activities—to make sure the two youngest members get their education.

Like many other times before, you chilled out on the sofa eating whatever delicacy Jin had cooked up while Taehyung and Jungkook did their homework on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. The two-bedroom house that they shared with the other five members was small but cozy, and it always gave you a sense of home. On this particular day, you were patiently explaining the math lesson to your attentive pupils when someone suddenly pounded on the front door, making you jump.

Taehyung rose and peered through the peep hole, then gasped and threw the door open. A bloody and wounded Yoongi staggered in, his gun still clutched in his hand. Three steps into the house and he almost fell face-first into the ground, had Jungkook not catch him in time.

“Hyung, what happened?!” Taehyung exclaimed worriedly.

You cleared a spot on the sofa and gestured for Jungkook to carry Yoongi there. “Taehyung, get the first aid kid. Jungkook, get a few clean towels and a basin of water.”

The boys rushed off and you knelt by the sofa to take a closer look. Yoongi’s face was pale, probably from pain and blood loss. Sweat beaded his forehead and he was breathing heavily, eyes squeezed shut. You pried the gun from his fingers and set it carefully on the coffee table. His other hand was clutching at his side, and you saw blood trickling down between his fingers.

“Noona, noona, is Yoongi-hyung going to be okay?” Taehyung asked worriedly.

“Should we call an ambulance?” Jungkook added. On the sofa, Yoongi shook his head slightly, his brows creasing with effort.

“No…don’t call an ambulance…I’ll be fine…” He groaned and tried to roll into a fetal position but you stopped him.

“Yoongi, let me take a look.” He tried to protest but you had Taehyung and Jungkook help you take off the leather jacket Yoongi was wearing to reveal the black shirt he had on underneath. Not only was there a jagged rip in his shirt, there was also blood stains on the fabric.

Slowly, you rolled up the bottom of his shirt, bracing yourself for what was underneath. A knife wound stretched from the middle of his ribcage to his abdomen, seeping crimson blood. Jungkook and Taehyung stared in wide-eyed horror.

“Get me a clean towel.” You commanded. One of the boys handed you a white hand towel, which you folded and pressed it firmly on the wound. Yoongi moaned in pain. The red blood stained the pristine white towel, and you pressed harder. _Please don’t die of blood loss, please don’t die…_

When his side finally stopped bleeding, you cleaned the area with a wet towel, disinfected it, and applied an antibiotic cream. Through it all, Yoongi gritted his teeth and tried not to make any noises. You wrapped a bandage around him tightly, and then moved on to the various scratches and nicks on his arms, legs, and face. By the time you dropped the last bloody towel into the basin that Taehyung was holding out, two hours had passed.

“Jungkook, Taehyung, can you guys find clean clothes for Yoongi and help him change? I’ll go wash the towels.” As the boys scrambled to follow orders, you stood up and made your way to the bathroom, where a pile of bloody towels sat in the sink. You scrubbed and rinsed all the blood off, then tossed the lot into the washing machine. Taehyung emerged and dropped Yoongi’s bloody and tattered clothes into the churning washing machine.

You made your way towards the living room to check on Yoongi again. His eyes were closed and his face was still pale, but at least he didn’t look like a bloody mess anymore. Taehyung collapsed into a chair next to Jungkook. “That’s got to be the scariest moment of my life.” You nodded.

“What could’ve possibly happened to him? Why would he get stabbed?” You questioned. Taehyung and Jungkook looked at each other.

You sighed. “Guys, I know you’ve been keeping many parts of your personal lives from me, but I really want to help. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on. This is a very serious event, and whoever did this to Yoongi should go to jail for it. Now, are you going to tell me or not?”

“It’s very complicated…” Taehyung began.

“And Yoongi-hyung might be mad at us for telling,” Jungkook added. “He made us promise not to tell you.”

You looked over at Yoongi, who seemed to be asleep. “Well, he’s not objecting, so I don’t see why you can’t tell me. If he gets mad, I’ll take responsibility.”

The two boys shared another look, then glanced at Yoongi’s unconscious form again. Finally, Taehyung spoke up. “(Y/N)-noona, did you know that Yoongi-hyung is actually one of the leaders of a gang?”

*          *          *          *          *

By the time the other members showed up, you had learned everything you needed to know. The boys were in the top ranks of a gang called BTS, and Yoongi had incurred a lifetime of resentment ever since he saved you that day, especially since Tattoo happened to be the leader of a rival gang called the Sharks. Every time Yoongi missed school it was to deal with problems created by Tattoo’s gang, because Tattoo absolutely despised Yoongi for shooting him and his two buddies and taking away his prize.

“What’s the name of the rival gang’s leader again?” You asked Taehyung.

“His name is Jim, but everyone calls him Jimmy the Weasel,” Taehyung answered. “The dude you called Mohawk is Little Al, and Cigarette is—”

“That’s enough information Taehyung,” Rap Monster interrupted, his tone sharp, as he made his way over to examine Yoongi. “You’re always giving away our secrets.”

Taehyung stopped talking and looked ashamed. You felt a stir of anger. “Hey, don’t be so harsh on him. _I_ asked him. He was only giving me an answer. If you want to be mad, be mad at me, not Taehyung.”

“Yeah?” Rap Monster turned his stern gaze on you. “If it wasn’t for you, we would’ve never had so many problems with the Sharks. Yoongi would’ve never gotten hurt!”

You stood up abruptly, staring down Rap Monster even though he was about half a foot taller. “If it weren’t for me, Yoongi would’ve died from blood loss by now! If you think I’m a bother to have around, why weren’t you here to take care of him when he stumbled in nearly _three hours ago_ , bloody and half-dead?”

“I was preoccupied—”

“Yeah, well, what’s more important, Yoongi’s life or whatever business you were tending to?” You met Rap Monster’s intense glare, refusing to back down.

“Listen here, (Y/N), you’re not part of this gang, so you have no business in any of our affairs,” Rap Monster growled, moving forward threateningly. You slowly backed up against the wall. “You shouldn’t even _be_ here.”

 “That’s enough, Namjoon.” Both you and Rap Monster looked towards the couch, where Yoongi was struggling to sit up. “Leave (Y/N) alone.” With one last glare, Namjoon turned around and went into the kitchen, probably to fume. You glared daggers at his back and turned to help Yoongi into a sitting position. “How do you feel, Yoongi?”

“Like I’ve been stabbed,” he deadpanned.

“Besides that, Yoongi.”

“Well, it still hurts, but I’m alive so I won’t complain.” Yoongi looked around at the members standing around the room, still frozen by the confrontation that just took place. “Listen, (Y/N), thanks for saving me. If you weren’t here, I probably would’ve died by now. So, thank you.”

“It was nothing, really. You saved me once, so it was only fitting for me to help you,” You said modestly.

“Don’t be too angry at Namjoon, okay? He’s just really protective of everyone; that’s why we call him the dad of our group. He only wants what’s best for the gang. He didn’t mean to snap at you,” Yoongi continued. “He was protecting my best interests.”

“Was it in your best interest that you keep all your gang activities a secret from me?” You questioned. “Why didn’t you want me to know you were in a gang, Yoongi?”

“Um…” Yoongi glanced at the other members again. The boy named Jin snapped to attention.

“Alright guys, either go wash up or help me with the cooking. Dinner will be ready soon!” Jin shooed everyone out of the living room, flashing Yoongi a wink.

“Well?” You waited for Yoongi’s answer.

“I…” Yoongi ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want you to think differently of me. I know that gangs are seen as the scum of society, and gangsters are thought as law-breaking, dangerous, irresponsible high-school drop-outs who do drugs, robberies, and murder. You’re a very smart and pretty girl, and a very good person. I didn’t want you to—to dislike me and think that I was a bad person. I wanted you to like me and stay my friend. You’re the first person I’ve met outside of my gang that hasn’t looked at me with fear and disgust, and I didn’t want to lose that.”

The room sank into silence. While Yoongi flushed and waited anxiously for your reaction, you were stunned into silence. Yes, it was shocking that Yoongi was a gangster, but you should’ve known from the day you saw him wearing his black leather jacket and shooting people with his handgun. Despite seeing him shoot three people in front of you, you didn’t see him as dangerous. His entire gang was very pleasant towards you (except Namjoon, but his sternness was understandable), and you couldn’t imagine them as criminals. They were all very nice boys who went on a crooked path in life, that’s all.

“I—I understand if you want to cut all interactions with me,” Yoongi said, trying to hide the hint of sadness in his voice. “After all, no law-abiding citizen wants to be afflicted with a gang, right?”

“That’s true, but Yoongi, I don’t see you as a gangster. I still see the boy who bravely rescued me, a chivalrous and caring guy who is left with all the problems I caused and doesn’t complain. I see everyone in this house as good people. You might be gangsters, but you don’t break laws, do you?”

“Actually, we do have a relatively clean record with the police—”

“See? You guys aren’t like the typical gang. You are all high school students who stepped on a side path in life. You are all kind-hearted and fair people; why wouldn’t I want to interact with you?” You looked at Yoongi, who was gaping at you like you grew two heads.

“Wait, really, (Y/N)? You’re not scared of the ‘big, bad gangsters’ and actually think

 we’re good?”

“I think _you’re_ good. And Taehyung, and Jungkook, and everyone else, even Rap Monster. You’re all good enough to be my friends. And besides, you saved me—I could never turn away from my hero, can I?” You smiled at Yoongi, whose worry dissipated like clouds being blown away by the wind.

*          *          *          *          *

In the days that followed, you slowly coaxed Yoongi over to the “light” side and away from his gangster activities. The rest of the gang grudgingly followed, and although they weren’t completely clean, at least all of them were coming to school on a daily basis. You hung out at their house often, hosting tutoring sessions and helping Jin with the cooking. You sewed up the tear in Yoongi’s shirt, and soon all the boys were asking you to help mend their clothes. You became part of the family, and even Namjoon warmed up to you.

Yoongi, under your influence, began to improve his grades in school. By the time your senior year in high school rolled around, Yoongi was taking the same advanced classes as you, along with Namjoon, Jin, and J-Hope. The younger members were a grade below you five, but were doing well in their classes too. When you accidentally stumbled on the seven of them singing and dancing in the living room, you encouraged them to try out for the school talent show as a band. Someone recorded their performance, and soon the video went viral. The girls in the school practically fell over themselves in order to gain BTS’s attention. Musically talented boys offered to join the band as musicians and help with the music. BTS was no longer a gang, but a well-loved band.

Yoongi and you grew closer each day. He never forgot a single thing that you did for him, and was always willing to do whatever you asked. He organized a surprise birthday party for you when you turned eighteen, and gave you the newest novels written by your favorite authors as gifts. When he surprised you by taking you to watch a meteor shower, you knew you had fallen for him. Under the starry night, with brilliant streaks that lit up the night sky, you leaned your head on Yoongi’s shoulder and smiled contently. Hesitantly, Yoongi wrapped one arm around you. When it appeared that you were okay with it, he pressed a kiss into your hair. “(Y/N)?”

“Hm?” You blushed, glad that the darkness hid your face.

“I think…I think I love you.”

“Oh Yoongi.” You looked up at him and smiled shyly. “I think I love you too.”

Those two years were the best times of your life. With Yoongi, you felt safe and happy. The Sharks disappeared from your memory, and the boys didn’t mention anything except something about a new leader once over dinner. You smiled more, and laughed more, and soon your charms attracted more friends. Some were just as book-loving and nerdy like you, while others were cool and popular, like a boy named Richard who had green eyes, black hair, and a leather jacket that rivaled Yoongi’s.

“Stay away from him,” Yoongi warned, lacing his fingers with yours and pulling you away when you waved at Richard in the hallway. “I have a bad feeling about him.”

“You’re just jealous,” you laughed and poked Yoongi’s cheek.

“No, I’m not. I actually have a bad feeling about him. He looks familiar somehow…” Yoongi tried to keep an impassive expression, but failed.

“Oh, hush, Yoongi, I know that you’re jealous.” You smiled up at him. “Don’t worry, he’s just a friend. You know I only love you.”

Yoongi grumbled, but dropped the subject. Still, he told the rest of the group to keep an eye on Richard.

Soon, it was May, and the end of the school year was approaching. With final exams came the annual Junior/Senior Prom, and soon you were busy helping with prom posters for your friends. Meanwhile, Yoongi was busy with his own plans, secretly having the boys help smuggle poster paper and paint into the house when you weren’t paying attention.

A few days later, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jin held up a huge poster that read “I’m not a Prince, but will you be my Princess for Prom?” in the middle of the school hallway, while Namjoon passed Yoongi a bouquet of flowers to give to you. You clapped your hands over your mouth in shock and happiness, and said yes. J-Hope tossed handfuls of confetti into the air while Jimin snapped a selfie. Life couldn’t be more perfect.

*          *          *          *          *

When Yoongi arrived at your doorstep to pick you up for prom, he was momentarily stunned by your appearance. You wore a simple gown, with a gold beaded cutout top and a pristine, white skirt that reached your ankles. Your long hair was slightly curled, cascading down one shoulder, and the light makeup you put on only accented your natural beauty. To Yoongi, you looked like a goddess.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” Yoongi said as he offered his arm to you like a true gentleman. “I brought you a gift.”

“Oh thank you. You look stunning too.” You blushed slightly, trying not to stare. Yoongi looked even more handsome, wearing a white tuxedo with gold embroidered notch lapels and a black bow tie. Even his shoes were white, polished and spotless. “You didn’t have to get me anything, really.”

“No, no I insist. Think of it as an early birthday gift.” From inside his breast pocket Yoongi pulled out a small satin box. Inside was a beautiful heart-shaped pendant with a diamond at the center, dangling from an elegant sterling silver necklace. You gasped.

“Oh my gosh Yoongi, I can’t take that, it’s so expensive.” You tried to put the box back into his pocket, but Yoongi stopped you.

“No, (Y/N), I insist. I can’t shower you with gifts like other people, but I can give you one necklace on the biggest night of your life.”

“I don’t care for gifts, Yoongi. It’s the thought that counts. Besides, it’s—”

Yoongi cut you off with a kiss, catching you off guard. You froze, and when Yoongi pulled back, the necklace was already around your neck. “Please accept it, (Y/N),” Yoongi said softly. “I want to show you how much I love you.”

“I…” The kiss had left you breathless, and your brain was still trying to catch up. Yoongi smiled and guided you to the car. “Just keep it, (Y/N).”

Prom was held at a large, fancy hotel with a huge ballroom and lush, beautiful gardens surrounding it. Fairy lights were strung around and between the trees, while inside, crystal chandeliers casted a warm glow over the dance floor. You and Yoongi took several prom photos, and then group photos with Namjoon and the rest of the boys. You weren’t sure if they had their own dates, but if they were to ask any girl in the venue for a dance, you were confident that the girl would gladly ditch her date.

As night fell and people finished their elegant dinners, couples began to move to the dance floor. You caught glimpses of your friends among them: Taehyung, J-Hope, a girl named Emily, and even Richard. Yoongi tugged on your arm, bringing you onto the dance floor. Amidst the swirling dresses and twirling suits, you and Yoongi danced to your hearts’ content, with eyes only for each other. Your hand was placed on his shoulder, and his hand was on the small of your back. The past year wasn’t easy for the two of you. Very rarely did you get to spend time with each other, just the two of you. Now that graduation was near and it was almost time to live your own life, just being with Yoongi seemed to hold a special meaning to you.

As the night went on, you began to tire. Yoongi noticed, and suggested going out to the gardens for a breath of fresh air. Hand in hand, the two of you wandered outside, marveling at how the fairy lights made everything seem magical. A few other couples were also strolling around, enjoying the quiet time together.

Walking along the hedge-lined path, Yoongi and you talked quietly, reminiscing on old memories and discussing your plans for the future. Slowly, the two of you approached a small secluded gazebo surrounded by carefully trimmed hedges and rosebushes. The fairy lights glowed above, casting a soft glow on everything below. You sat carefully on the rail, giving your poor feet a break from walking around in high heels, and Yoongi sat down next to you. For a moment, both of you were quiet, with only the crickets chirping into the night air.

“(Y/N), I—I just want to say thank you,” Yoongi broke the silence. “Thank you for turning my life around and giving it meaning. Thank you for taking care of me and the boys and worrying about us. Thank you for making the last two years something worth remembering.”

You turned to look at Yoongi, who was picking at the thread on his cufflink, suddenly shy. “No, I have to thank _you_ , Yoongi. If you hadn’t saved me in that alleyway, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have met you or Taehyung or any of the boys, and I most definitely wouldn’t have so many friends. Thank you for making the last two years of _my_ life the happiest times of my life, Yoongi.”

A twig snapped in the background. Both of you turned around to look into the bushes, only to see a small bunny scamper out a few moments later. “Aww, it’s so cute,” you said softly, watching it dash away into the safety of the hedges.

“Not as cute as me,” Yoongi said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. You laughed and bopped him on the nose.

“Sure, Yoongi, whatever you say.”

Looking into your eyes, Yoongi smiled, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He drew closer, until your faces were mere inches apart. You gazed into his dark brown eyes, once again mesmerized.

“You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met,” Yoongi whispered, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Not only are you beautiful on the outside, but you also have the nicest, more caring heart of all.”

“And you, Yoongi, are the most handsomest guy I’ve met,” you said softly. “I never would’ve thought that I’d be lucky enough to meet someone like you.”

“No, I’m the lucky one, (Y/N),” Yoongi murmured. “I’d do anything to have you with me forever.”

He closed the distance between the two of you, and your eyes fluttered close. Unlike last time, you could actually enjoy the kiss this time. Every nerve in your body was firing, and you wanted to stay in Yoongi’s arms forever. You melted into his soft kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer.  

“Yoongi! (Y/N)!” A shout pierced the still air. “Watch ou—!”

Everything happened at once. The cry was cut off by a gunshot. At the same time, Yoongi pushed both of you off the railing, shielding you with his body as you two fell onto a nearby hedge. Before you had even realized what was happening, Yoongi was already on his feet, helping you up.

You scanned the area quickly, taking in a dark figure heading for the gazebo and a figure lying on the ground about a hundred feet away. Another gunshot rang out, causing you to scream and Yoongi to push you down again, hiding in the safety of the hedges.

“Yoongi! It’s the Sharks! They’re coming after you!” A pained shout came from the figure lying on the ground, which you recognized as Taehyung.

“It’s Taehyung! He’s hurt!” You scrambled to your feet, pulling on Yoongi. “Let’s get Taehyung and get out of here!”

“No. (Y/N), I need you to run and get away. Get far, far away. Don’t come back for any of us.” Yoongi’s face was surprisingly calm. He reached inside his suit and pulled out his handgun. You stared at him like he was crazy. _He brought his gun with him?!_

“What? No way! Yoongi, you can’t be serious, we have to leave!”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry, but it looks like I can’t escape my past. No matter what happens, (Y/N), I love you.” Yoongi gave you a swift kiss, then vaulted over the hedges and landed on the gazebo, twirling his gun in his hand.

You ran to Taehyung, helping him to sit. His right hand was clamped over his left shoulder, and blood was trickling steadily through his fingers. “Oh my goodness you got shot!” you exclaimed. “We need to get you to the hospital or something right away!”

“Yeah…the guy had his gun aimed at Yoongi, but I tackled him and he shot me instead,” Taehyung said through gritted teeth. “(Y/N)-noona, you have to get out of here. Don’t worry about me; the hyungs are coming.”

“No way, Taehyung. I’m not leaving you or Yoongi. Just what exactly is going on?”

“Well, well, if it isn’t the leader of BTS, _Suga_.” The person who shot Taehyung strode onto the gazebo, facing Yoongi. “What an honor to make your acquaintance.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met each other before,” Yoongi said coldly.

“Tsk, tsk, you’ve seen me around, Suga. I just never formally introduced myself.” The person tilted his head and slowly walked around the perimeter of the gazebo. Yoongi followed his movement, so that the two of them were walking in a circle. The person stopped when he was directly facing the entrance of the gazebo. You gasped as the fairy lights illuminated his face.

“I’m Rich, the new leader of the Sharks. But I think you know me better as _Richard_.”

Beside you, Taehyung stiffened. “Isn’t that—your friend Richard?”

“I didn’t know he was the new leader of the Sharks!” You protested.

“I had a bad feeling about you the moment I laid eyes on you,” Yoongi was saying. “You’re here to settle our gang rivalry, I presume?”

Richard laughed humorlessly. “Oh, Suga. This isn’t just about our gang rivalry. I don’t think you knew, but Jim was my older brother.”

It was so silent that one could hear a pin drop. Something like realization flitted over Yoongi’s expression. “You’re here for revenge.”

“Wait, what? Who’s Jim? Why does Richard being related to Jim have anything to do with it?” You asked Taehyung.

“Jim was the previous gang leader. He’s the one that cornered you in the alleyway, the one that you called Tattoo.” Taehyung explained. “Although why he’s here for revenge I’m not quite sure…”

            “You killed my brother, Suga, and walked away as a free man. I’ve been trying to track you down for two years. I have no intention of letting you get away this time!” Richard’s cool appearance disappeared down the drain.

            “I didn’t kill your brother. He almost killed _me._ He got hit by a car while chasing me and trying to finish me off. It wasn’t my fault that he wasn’t looking at where he’s going,” Yoongi stated calmly. You had a flashback to Yoongi stumbling into the house, bloody and shot. _That’s what he was doing that day._ “If you want to get revenge, track down the drunk driver and kill him instead.”

            “Jim was the only family I had left!” Richard yelled, waving his gun in the air. “He was the one who raised me and took care of me when my mom left and my dad became alcoholic! You took away the only person I loved!”

            “Like I said, it wasn’t my fault. He tried to kill me first. I didn’t even shoot him.”

            “Yes you did. You shot him two years ago in an alleyway. From that moment on, everything became _your fault_.” Richard snarled. You gulped, hoping that Richard didn’t know that you were there as well.

            “Do you know why I shot him, Richard? He was trying to—” Yoongi started to explain, but Richard cut him off.

            “Yes I do. Jim told me all about it. He told me how you came swooping in like Robin Hood and snatched (Y/N) away from him!” Richard turned around and found you standing with Taehyung about a hundred feet away. He smirked dangerously. “When I’m through with your boyfriend here, (Y/N), I’ll come after you and finish what my brother started.”

            “Over my dead body!” Taehyung shouted, positioning himself in front of you protectively. “Don’t you even think about it!”

           “If you even touch one of her hair, I will feed you through a shredder,” Yoongi growled, suddenly defensive. Richard laughed manically and flicked the safety off of his gun. He pointed it at Yoongi.

            “You can’t if you’re dead,” he said in a low voice. “Good-bye, Suga.”

            “No!!” You screamed as the gunshot filled the air. Taehyung reached out with his one good arm and seized your waist, preventing you from running onto the gazebo.

            “Let me go, Taehyung!”

            “(Y/N), let Yoongi handle it, don’t make it more difficult for him!” Taehyung tightened his grip on you, trying to ignore the blinding pain on his left shoulder. “Ow, my shoulder, (Y/N), please stop hitting me…”

            “I’m so sorry Taehyung I forgot,” you stopped struggling, opting to look at the battle unfolding on the gazebo instead. That shot had missed Yoongi, who leapt onto the narrow railing. Richard aimed his gun at Yoongi again, but before he could pull the trigger Yoongi was already on the move, leaping off and darting behind Richard. Richard spun around, holding his gun straight out in front of him with both hands, but again, Yoongi was too quick for him. With a swift kick to the back of Richard’s knees, Yoongi sent Richard stumbling. To your dismay, Richard didn’t fall; instead, he twisted around and grabbed Yoongi’s sleeve, pulling Yoongi down with him. One handgun clattered to the floor as the two boys engaged in hand to hand combat, punching and wrestling on the wooden gazebo floor.

            “Where’s the rest of your hyungs?” You asked Taehyung. “Yoongi needs help, and you won’t let me help!”

            “I don’t know, they should’ve heard the gun shots,” Taehyung replied worriedly. “I told them I was worried about you and Yoongi being alone out here.”

            Yoongi managed to pin a writhing Richard on the floor. Raising his fist, Yoongi landed a solid punch to Richard’s jaw before Richard yanked one arm free and landed a blow directly to Yoongi’s gut. Grunting, Yoongi pulled his arm back and punched Richard a second time.

            In the distance, you heard sirens approaching. _It’s about time the police showed up._

            Both boys heard it too. Yoongi froze momentarily, his arm stopping mid-swing. Richard took this chance to shove Yoongi off of him and scramble for the handgun on the floor. Yoongi lunged for it too, and the boys collided once again.

            Maybe it was because Richard knew his time was running out. Maybe it was because he had a new rush of adrenaline. Whatever it was, Richard was attacking with twice the viciousness and strength as before, catching Yoongi off guard. This time, it was Yoongi who was pinned to the floor and being battered. With blood trickling down the corner of his lips and a crazed look in his eyes, Richard seemed to be a demon letting loose of all his anger.

            “He’s going to kill Yoongi!” With a sudden jerk, you broke free of Taehyung’s grasp and ran up the steps of the gazebo, with Taehyung shouting behind you. You launched yourself at Richard, pulling on his hair and clawing at his face, anything to get him to stop hurting Yoongi. With a growl, Richard turned around and threw you to the floor so hard your head connected with the wood with a thump.

            “(Y/N)!” With a roar, Yoongi shoved Richard off of him and slammed him against the railing. Richard’s head hit on one of the sharp edges, and blood began trickling down his temple. He slumped to the floor, his head lolling back,

            “(Y/N), are you okay? Can you hear me?” Yoongi rushed to you, throwing his handgun aside to prop you up on his arms. “(Y/N)?”

            You groaned, blinking away the fuzzy spots. There was definitely a bump growing on your head, but what concerned you the most was the blood on Yoongi’s face.

            “Yoongi, you’re hurt…” You reached up and tried to wipe away the blood at the corner of his lips. Yoongi pushed your hand away and stared at you intently.

            “Never mind me. Are _you_ okay? Are you bleeding anywhere?”

            “No, I don’t think so. I’m fine. It’s Taehyung who’s bleeding.” You craned you head to look back, where Taehyung was waving his good arm into the sky.

            “Over here! Police, he’s over here!”

            Loud voices began to approach from around the hedges as the authorities arrived. Yoongi helped you to your feet. “I’m sorry he attacked you; I should’ve stopped him sooner. I’m so sorry, (Y/N)—”

            “No, no, Yoongi, it wasn’t your fault. I wanted to help you.” You and Yoongi made your way down the steps and towards where Taehyung had disappeared around the corner to direct the cops. “We need to get you to a doctor.”

            “I’m fine—” Yoongi began to say, when a yell from behind startled both of you.

            “Suga! We’re not finished!”

            Turning around, both Yoongi and you saw that Richard had somehow wobbled to his feet, holding onto the railing for support.

            “Give up, Richard! The police are here. It’s over!” Yoongi called back, walking backwards. Turning to you, he said, “Walk behind me. Get to the cops as fast as you can.”

            “You thought you had killed me, Suga? Well, you thought wrong!” Suddenly, a gun had appeared in Richard’s hand. He pulled the trigger.

The bullet sped towards the Yoongi and you at a speed of 2,500 feet per second. You two were much too close to dodge. You yanked on Yoongi, trying to pull him down, trying to get on the floor before the bullet arrived—

Taehyung rounded the corner, his hyungs and the police following close behind. His eyes widened and he shouted, sprinting towards you two—

Yoongi fell on top of you, pinning you onto the floor for the third time in the last ten minutes. Your heart pounded from the fear and the adrenaline. Sitting up with Yoongi in your arms, you breathed a sigh of relief. You made it, both of you made it—

A crimson flower was blossoming on Yoongi’s chest, its petals stretching and growing with every passing second. His eyes were wide, and he was gasping for air. _No. No, no, no._

Manic laughter reached your ears. You looked back to the gazebo, where Richard was cackling in all his evil glory. “I told you so, Suga! I told you!”

“Put down the gun! You’re under arrest for manslaughter!” The cops stormed into the small clearing, their own guns raised. “I repeat, put down the gun!”

Richard ignored the loud warning and walked slowly down the steps of the gazebo. Everyone shifted a few steps back, but you were rooted to the spot. What does he want now? To kill you? Let him. Let him shoot you too. You didn’t want to live without Yoongi anyway.

Richard looked up into the starry heavens. “I did it, Jim,” he shouted. “I avenged you, my brother! I avenged you!” Then without warning, Richard opened his mouth, stuck the barrel of the gun inside, and pulled the trigger. His body fell forward, landing with a thump onto the dirt floor, blood and brain leaking from the hole on the back of his head.

All of this happened in a matter of seconds. You were still in shock, your head spinning from all that had just happened. The gun shots echoed in your ear, blocking out all other sounds.

“(Y/N)…” Yoongi’s soft voice brought you back. You saw that the blood was still flowing, and hurriedly pressed both hands onto the wound.

“Don’t worry Yoongi. I’ll get you to a hospital. They’ll take the bullet out and stitch you up. You’ll be fine. Don’t worry, Yoongi.” Folding the bottom of his suit up, you pressed Yoongi’s tuxedo onto the wound. “Don’t worry.”

“(Y/N), it’s no use…” Yoongi’s voice was strained. You shook your head, tears pricking at your eyelids.

“Don’t say that. The ambulances are already here. You’ll be fine in no time.”

“(Y/N), listen to me.” Yoongi grabbed your hands, folding his fingers over yours. You met his dying gaze and tried not to cry.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, (Y/N). I’m sorry for dragging you into all of this. I should have never let you become so attached to me. I knew that in the end, I would only hurt you.” His eyes fluttered close, but he forced them open again.

“Yoongi! Yoongi!” Namjoon pushed through the crowd, followed by the other boys. He dropped to his knees beside Yoongi. “Oh my gosh, Yoongi…”

“Did anyone call an ambulance? Is there one here? We need to get him to the hospital!” You yelled desperately, pleading with anyone who would listen. “Yoongi needs to get to the emergency room!”

“(Y/N), please…don’t…” Yoongi squeezed your hands, heaving painfully. His own heart did all the work, pumping the blood out of his body. The white tuxedo was drenched in blood, and yet you still pressed hard on the gushing wound, trying to stop the blood flow.

“Please, hyungs…I never asked much…but please, look…look after (Y/N)…for…for me….” Yoongi managed to make eye contact with all six boys kneeling beside him. “All of you…please…”

“I promise, hyung,” Jin wept. “We all promise, hyung, don’t worry.”

“Don’t say that, Yoongi, don’t,” you said, tears streaming down your cheeks. “You’ll make it. I know you will.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N)…” Yoongi tried to smile at you. “I’m not…going to make it…don’t be sad…please take care…of…yourself…”

His voice turned softer and softer. “Yoongi, please, just hold on, we’ll get you to the hospital, I promise,” you cried. “Just hold on!”

Yoongi shook his head slightly. He reached a trembling hand up to your cheek and wiped away some tears, leaving a bloody streak across your cheekbones. “I…love…you…(Y/N),” he whispered with effort. “To be in your arms…was all I’ve…ever…wanted.”

“I love you too, Yoongi,” you answered tearfully, holding his hand against your cheek. “You will always be my one and only love.”

With a soft smile, Yoongi relaxed into your embrace. His warm chocolate eyes lost their shine. His hand went slack.

“Yoongi? Yoongi?” You shook him slightly. “Yoongi!”

“Hyung!” Taehyung reached for Yoongi’s other hand, trying to feel a pulse. Namjoon placed a finger below Yoongi’s nostrils. You looked at him expectantly, praying, hoping, that maybe, _just maybe_ , Yoongi was still conscious.

Namjoon looked up and met your hopeful gaze. He shook his head sadly.

“No. No. It can’t be. No.” You pushed Namjoon’s finger away and felt for a breath yourself. There was nothing. Your world spun. “No, no, _no._ Yoongi, you can’t do this to me! Yoongi! _Yoongi!!_ ”

The wail pierced the night sky, sending a murder of crows up into the sky in a flutter of feathers, cawing. You hugged the one person whom you ever loved tightly, pressing your head to his. As you sobbed your heartbreak and regret out, the crimson blood slowly seeped over Yoongi’s suit, the red a stark contrast against the white.

*          *          *          *          *

You don’t remember much about what happened next. Even now, you can’t recall clearly what the police said to you, what the investigator asked you, and how you got home. You barely remember seeing your parents’ shocked expressions at the blood stains on your dress. Even the funeral was a blur. But what you did remember was the pain.

At first, it only felt like something was missing, as if someone took a piece of you and hid it somewhere you couldn’t find. There was a hole in your heart, as if Richard had shot you and not Yoongi. The heart was still intact, yes, but the bullet hole left spider web cracks that only widened over time, until your heart completely and utterly shattered. You wandered your house aimlessly, tracing your finger over the spines of books and sitting on windowsills. Your brain shut down after that night, refusing to accept reality, refusing to believe what your eyes saw.

What killed you the most was the pain in the boys’ eyes. At the funeral, you were the only girl present amidst a crowd of male gangsters, all part of the gang called BTS. You had never seen the boys so depressed and so sad; even J-Hope, the sunshine of the group, had turned into the gloomiest cloud on a stormy day. Taehyung and Jungkook huddled in the corner, crying softly. Jin kept wiping his eyes with a handkerchief, but went around to make sure that everyone else was as close as being okay as they could. They all acknowledged you, let you into their small groups of mourning, and shared your loss. Black was no longer a stereotypical gang color, but the color of mourning.

The one person you could not face was Namjoon. His words from the first encounter echoed in your mind: “ _If it wasn’t for you, we would’ve never had so many problems with the Sharks. Yoongi would’ve never gotten hurt!_ ” He was right. It _was_ your fault. Yoongi died because of you, and you could never forgive yourself for that. The pain in Namjoon’s eyes broke you more than anything. He didn’t accuse you, didn’t yell at you, didn’t talk to you at all. And that made it all the worse, because his silence was more torturous than any physical or verbal abuse he could give to you.

You withdrew from the group as the school year ended, once again lonely and friendless. You didn’t care. You missed how Yoongi made you laugh, and how he always smiled at you. You missed his emotionless exterior and soft interior, and you missed how he would wrap his arm around you protectively. May was a month of sunny days and blue skies, but to you, the world was devoid of color and life.

When a letter arrived in your mailbox stating that you had gotten accepted to the college you’ve always dreamed of going, one of the top universities in the world, you read it with an expressionless face and couldn’t feel any emotions at all. Life was moving on, and you had to too. But you couldn’t. There was unfinished business, an emptiness in your heart, and you couldn’t move on without filling that cavity. Instead of heading to college, you decided to take one year off, traveling the world and trying to come to terms with the grief.

It was the beginning of June when the doorbell rang one day, while you were packing for your trip. You trudged down the stairs and opened the door, expecting to see the UPS man or someone asking for donations. You did not expect to see Namjoon standing there, with an unreadable expression on his face.

            “(Y/N), I think it’s time we talked,” Namjoon began, and you cut him off.

            “I know what you’re going to say, Namjoon. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I realized that you were right all along. It _was_ my fault. If it wasn’t for me, you guys would’ve never had so much trouble with the Sharks, and Yoongi—Yoongi would still be alive.” It still hurt to say his name, because the mere mention of Yoongi brought back painful memories. “He did a brave and noble deed rescuing me, but if he hadn’t, none of this would’ve happened. If I hadn’t tried to help when they were fighting, Yoongi might’ve been able to finish Richard off, and Yoongi would still be alive. If I hadn’t fallen for Yoongi, he wouldn’t have had so many run-ins with the Sharks, and Richard wouldn’t have gone after him. You guys would still have your leader, and never would have suffered all this pain.”

            “(Y/N), listen to me—” Namjoon tried to speak, but you didn’t let him. The pain inside welled up and you looked up at him with teary eyes. After all this time, you still couldn’t face him, because you were afraid, afraid of what Namjoon would do to you. You dreaded his blame, and dreaded the verbal demoralization or even physical attack that would follow.

            “I’m sorry, alright? I understand why you blame me, and why you hate me. I’m so, so sorry that Yoongi became involved because of me, and I’m so sorry that he died because of me. But I’m hurting too, okay? Yoongi was the one and only person that I’ve ever loved, and the one person that made me feel like I was worth something in this world. All of you gave me a life worth living, and I feel absolutely horrible for doing this to all of you. But please, Namjoon, don’t make it worse for me than it already is. I get that you hate me, and that your gangster instincts probably want you to hurt me, or even kill me, as revenge for all the suffering I caused your group. I get it. But please don’t…please don’t hurt me…” Your fear rose to the surface, and your hands began to shake. “Please don’t add on to the guilt and the pain. You were the one person that never really liked me in the group, and I’m so, so scared of what you’ll do to me now that everything you said is true. Please, Namjoon, just leave me alone.”

            “What are you saying, (Y/N)?” Namjoon looked appalled. “That’s not—that’s not what I came here for—”

            “Don’t deny it, Namjoon! If you’re going to yell at me, please just get on with it, I can’t bear the guilt anymore…”

            Namjoon suddenly stepped forward, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever came next. But instead of a hard shove or a punch to the gut, you felt Namjoon’s arms wrap you in a tight embrace.

            “I’m sorry if you perceived me that way,” Namjoon said. “I did say those things, but only because I was trying to protect Yoongi. I didn’t know you back then, and I didn’t want him to get hurt. But after two years, I came to see why Yoongi fell in love with you. You’re kind, caring, and beautiful both inside and out. You turned Yoongi from a depressed, solemn guy to someone more cheerful and happy. You turned his life around, (Y/N), did you know that? You saved him. You saved all of us. And even though I said all those hurtful things in the beginning, know that I didn’t fully mean it. I never blamed you for Yoongi’s death, and I never will. I’m sorry if my actions appeared that way to you.”

            “Really? You really mean this?” You were shocked, not expecting this reaction from Namjoon. “You really don’t blame me?”

            “I don’t. It was all Fate’s planning, and none of us can escape that. We are all mourning, but (Y/N), none of us blame you. We would never think to blame you for Yoongi’s death, especially not after how you took care of us for two years.” Namjoon pulled back from the hug and studied your features. “I’m sorry I was so mean to you in the beginning, (Y/N). Would you ever forgive me?”

           You nodded vigorously. The tears fell, but you were no longer afraid. “Of course I forgive you. I already did, two years ago.”

            This time, you were the one to throw your arms around Namjoon, burying your face into his shoulder, crying out all the pent up fear and anger and pain. Namjoon felt tears trickling down his own cheeks as he held you. The two of you stayed like that for a long time, feeling the burden lift from your hearts as you finally came to terms with each other.

*          *          *          *          *

            _(Present Day)_

You sighed and closed your eyes, knowing that the tears would come as it did every time you relived the memories. Except this time, they didn’t. Even the painful ache in your heart had dulled, only throbbing gently.

            You pulled out a small photo album from your backpack, holding it so that the sunlight illuminated the pictures completely. Thumbing through the pages, you smiled faintly as you saw the captured memories from good times past. There was a silly selfie that you and Yoongi took when you two were walking around the park. There was a Polaroid that Jin took of you and the boys at the beach, with the endless blue sky behind. There were several prom pictures, and you couldn’t help but sigh dreamily at the seven handsome dudes grinning up at you. There was a photo tucked between two pages, which you picked up to examine.

            In the background, Taehyung, Jungkook, Jin grinned ear to ear, holding up a large poster decorated with glitter and full of loopy cursive. You stood next to the poster, smiling shyly, holding a bouquet of white lilies and blue orchids. Yoongi stood beside you, an arm around your waist, beaming. Namjoon was clapping, standing on the other side of the poster, while J-Hope was in the motion of throwing more confetti into the air. At the lower right hand corner, Jimin’s smiling face could be seen as the colorful confetti rained from the sky. It seemed so long ago that the eight of you were together and lively, happy and carefree.

            Everything changed in a matter of seconds, in the sound of a gunshot. Your world fell apart, then took many long days to be mended. You slowly progressed through the seven stages of grief, passing from shock to denial, then slowly onto bargaining, guilt, anger, and depression. But life moved on. The sun still rose every morning, and the moon glowed softly in the night.  It was a cruel reality you had to learn, that life does not stop for anything or for anyone.

You gazed out the window with the photo album in your lap, watching the fields go by. One hand strayed to your neck, brushing over the cool surface of the heart-shaped pendant that Yoongi gave you so long ago. For a moment, you thought you saw Yoongi’s face reflected in the clear glass, smiling at you warmly, his brown eyes twinkling. Instead of crying out for his return, or yearning to touch him once more, you merely looked into his eyes and smiled. Something unspoken passed between the two of you, and Yoongi’s face burst into a brilliant smile. When you blinked and looked again, Yoongi was gone.

As the train carried you to the beginning of a new stage in life, you looked out over endless fields of yellow mustard flowers and finally felt your spirit move on to the last and final stage of grief: _Acceptance._  


End file.
